Authors: Lynette Creswell
Tags: #adventure, #fantasy, #magic, #witch, #princess, #queen, #swords, #elves, #spells, #action and adventure, #trilogy, #mages, #wood sprite
Within minutes they were
climbing a deep incline; their exit from an overgrown iron grate
remained concealed within a grassy bank.
‘
We haven’t
got much further to go,’ Amella said when Crystal became short of
breath. ‘We are virtually a stone’s throw away from the castle
entrance.’
‘
What do you
mean?’ Crystal huffed. ‘You’re not seriously expecting us to just
walk through those huge gates unchallenged, are you? I mean,
wouldn’t that be like the lamb jumping up on the slab and offering
the sacrificial knife in its hoof in preparation for its own
slaughter?’
‘
That’s just
it,’ explained Amella with a sudden twinkle in her eye. ‘Forusian
will never expect you to enter via the front door.’
‘
But I’ll be
instantly recognised; we don’t exactly blend in, do we? No, that’s
a terrible idea, sorry, you’re going to have to think of something
else.’
Amella ignored her words and
started to untie the thin blanket.
‘
Come and sit
down here,’ Amella said, placing herself in a shallow dip
concealing them from view. She felt Crystal’s eyes bore into the
back of her head and she turned and patted the ground, wanting her
to do as she was told.
Crystal finally obeyed, her
immaturity showing in her youthful eyes.
‘
Look, let’s
have something to eat before we try to make it into the lion’s
den,’ Amella urged, placing the food directly onto the
blanket.
Crystal shrugged her shoulders,
acting like a stubborn child.
‘
I’m not in
the least bit hungry,’ she said, lifting her nose in the air. ‘In
fact, food is the last thing on my mind because I’m feeling a
little sick.’
‘
Here, take a
piece, it will ease your queasiness,’ said Amella, offering her a
large chunk of bread.
Crystal had to admit the
fresh-baked dough smelt good and before she knew what she was doing
she was reaching out and taking an unintentional nibble. The bread
was layered with a thin, brown spread which tasted delicious, and
she swilled it down with the spring water which was as cold as when
it had first been filled from the stream.
She felt the sun’s golden ray’s
burn down on her body and with it came a strange sensation which
started in her mouth. Her tongue went slightly numb and her lips
swelled and became puffy. She was not too alarmed at first, but
then the sensation travelled through her body, causing her to feel
bloated and uncomfortable. Pressure was rising in her head and her
blood was pumping around her brain at a dramatic rate, causing a
migraine to blast pain into her eyes. Panic set in when she felt
her face grow itchy and her nostrils flare. Her look of alarm
rested heavily on Amella, who simply pressed her hand to her
shoulder to help keep her calm.
‘
Don’t worry,
you’re going to be fine,’ she said, realising the child’s dilemma,
‘that’ll be the magic in the pât
é
working. I know I should have told you what my
plan actually consisted of, but I knew you would have refused me if
I had told you what I was really going to do.’
As Amella spoke, Crystal felt
her body transmute. Her arms and legs appeared to grow shorter and
she noticed her hands melted together to form small hooves.
Seeing the fear in her eyes,
Amella continued to try to reassure her.
‘
You won’t
stay like that for long,’ she soothed. ‘The spell will only last
for a short while, but it will give us enough time to smuggle you
into the castle without suspicion.’
Crystal flailed her arms about
in a mad dance; her voice disappeared and tears streamed down her
hairy face.
‘
Why are you
acting this way?’ asked Amella, becoming slightly worried at
Crystal’s reaction to the spell. ‘Why, you must have changed into
another creature at some point in your life?’
With light fingers Amella
helped Crystal off with her clothes.
‘
I will wrap
them inside the blanket for later,’ she explained, grabbing the
cloth. ‘Don’t fret; I know you are angry with me right now, but
this was the best idea I could think of at such short
notice.’
Amella folded her clothes into
a neat pile before rolling them up into a tight ball.
‘
You said
yourself how you couldn’t blend in, so I have made it easier for
you to do so, for I have changed you into something no one will
ever suspect is you.’
Crystal had lost none of her
senses and opened her mouth to declare Amella’s insanity. She had
been caught off guard and felt utterly stupid, but instead of words
coming out of her mouth she only made a bleating sound and
instantly shut her mouth in dismay. The shock of what had happened
to her filled her with fury, but she realised she had no choice but
to trust Amella.
‘
You will
forgive me,’ said Amella, tying a thin piece of rope around
Crystal’s neck. ‘But if you carry on bleating like that you will
draw unwanted attention to us,’ she chided. ‘Now, what we are going
to do is give the impression I am going to the castle to sell
livestock. This will not only get us inside the castle, but give us
access to the kitchens. Now listen and listen carefully, for we
will only get one shot at getting inside. Stay by my side at all
times; on no account must you wander off and no matter what you see
or hear you must not alert them to your spell or they will know
that we are infiltrators and kill us on the spot. Do you
understand?’
Crystal opened her mouth, but
again only a bleat escaped her fur-covered lips.
‘
We can do
this,’ Amella said, ‘but we can only do this together. Remember,
brave one, Forusian is an evil man who doesn’t know the meaning of
forgiveness and no matter what happens there will be no turning
back.’
With a heavy heart Crystal
bleated her alliance. She raised her small round eyes towards
heaven and watched the clouds swirl in the sky like the many
thoughts drifting through her mind. Amella pulled unexpectedly at
the cord around her neck and she jerked her head, pulling back in
protest, hoping against hope that no one in the future would ever
learn how she had suffered such an indignity as being turned into a
goat.
C
hapter 20
Matt was losing all sense of
time and only the edge of reason was keeping him from going insane.
He had been separated from Arhdel soon after his first encounter
with Forusian and held in a dungeon close to where the king slept.
For some strange reason Matt wasn’t clasped in chains like so many,
but suffered his confinement in a damp and mouldy fleapit all the
same. The walls were bare stone, the air bitter cold and the only
thing to wrap themselves around him were the feelings of loss and
desperation.
On arrival he’d been given a
tatty blanket to help stop the damp reaching his skin and a small,
metal plate, dented and unwashed. His plate now sat on the floor
next to the door, a reminder of the pathetic scraps of food he was
offered each day. A small flap cut into the lower part of the door
lay closed, yet it was his only link to the outside world and it
was rarely opened.
Matt quivered uncontrollably
when continuous screaming pierced the darkness each and every
night. He recognised the cries to belong to Arhdel and recoiled in
horror, cupping his hands over his ears to try and stop the noise
mashing his brain to pulp. It was clear Forusian’s fury at losing
Crystal could not be quenched and his anger fell at the bloodied
feet of Arhdel, and as each day rolled into the next, Matt heard
the moans grow weaker until only silence echoed around him.
Forusian, meanwhile, sat on his
bed trying to scratch out the last parts of his plan. He had
decided not to treat the boy as harshly as the soldier, realising
that when he reclaimed the princess she would look upon him with
more favour if the boy had been unharmed. He smiled to himself at
the thought of having her back; it wouldn’t be long now, he was
sure of it, and he was more than willing to force her to become his
wife when he did. His smile faded; he’d wanted her to marry him of
her own free will but it was obvious that this was never going to
happen now.
He’d sent many soldiers out in
search of her shortly after he had returned to his lair to find
that she’d somehow escaped. The Nonhawk searched for a night and a
day, but by the end of it they had returned empty-handed and the
consequence had been their immediate slaughter. The cliff became
stained once again with their blood, and its jagged rocks and the
rough vicious sea could not wash away its shame quickly enough.
Forusian became obsessed with
finding Crystal and sent three of his most competent soldiers to
enter the forest, covered by a magic spell of the woodland in the
hope of tracking her down. They could enter any dwelling,
constructed of wood or of a natural origin, and go undetected,
enabling them to spy on anyone unseen, but Forusian gave them a
grave warning: return only when they had news of her whereabouts or
taste the bitter reward of death.
The three soldiers left the
castle and rode their horses fiercely, confident they would find
the princess with the help of Forusian’s magic. They hadn’t taken
his warning lightly and knew that if they failed to bring her back
it would mean their ultimate death. With his violent words ringing
in their ears, they vowed not to return empty-handed.
They came upon many huts and
cabins hidden within the lush, green trees and with the day turning
into night they slipped undetected in and out of each dweller’s
home. They invaded the hovels of creatures of misfortune, folk who
had been forced to live a life of squalor and destitution, exiled
by their own people for crimes against their realms. The soldiers’
sharp ears laboured relentlessly, listening to idle gossip and
careless snippets of conversation, hoping someone would lead them
straight to the princess. But as time passed by the soldiers became
disgruntled by the sheer lack of information and so they pushed on
until they came upon a hut that was closed up and showing no signs
of life.
They encircled the small cabin
before entering through the front door. Once inside, they dispersed
their spell and showed themselves to all but an empty room.
‘
Search the
place,’ commanded the Nonhawk leader, knocking the table bare of
most of its meagre tableware whilst he searched for vital clues. He
wore the black livery of Forusian and his metal fist hit the
surface of the table, shattering what was left of the shabby
crockery.
His eye caught sight of the
makeshift bed and he made his way towards it. With a sharp tug he
pulled the covers back and glanced down at the lumpy mattress,
resting his eyes upon something that resembled dark, silken thread
lying on the pillow.
Pulling off one of his leather
gloves he enabled two of his podgy fingers to pick up the single
strand of auburn hair. He sniggered outwardly before calling his
companions to his side.
‘
She was
here!’ he said, producing the strand and holding it up to his
torch. It shone a thousand shades of copper and grunts of welcomed
satisfaction came from each of their hardened mouths.
‘
Whose hut is
this?’ the leader demanded. The two soldiers shook their heads,
unsure.
‘
No matter,’
he said, carefully placing the evidence inside a piece of torn
linen which he spotted lying on the floor. ‘We will find out who
owns this place the minute we get back, for this hut is on King
Forusian’s land.’
Within minutes the soldiers
were back in the saddle and making their way to Forusian’s castle.
They travelled through the night and when they reached the castle,
thousands of torches had been placed around the towers, lighting up
the night sky to create a blaze of firelight.
‘
It is our
welcome home,’ shouted one of the soldiers, pulling at his horse’s
reins to make him slow his pace. ‘We are going to be made
heroes.’
Once inside the castle they
were announced to the king and Forusian didn’t hesitate to offer
his men a welcoming drink when they were shown into the drawing
room. The ambience gave the impression of warmth, but Forusian’s
expression was ice-cold.
‘
What news do
you bring of the princess?’ the king asked, staring at them with
hardening eyes.
‘
My lord,’
said the leader, taking a low bow. ‘We have found evidence of where
the one you seek has been sheltering.’
‘
And where
would that be?’ asked Forusian, forcing his lips tight.
‘
A hard day’s
ride from here, deep in the forest.’
Forusian rolled his eyes. ‘So
damn close,’ he cursed aloud. ‘I knew she couldn’t have gotten
far.’
He edged his way towards a
nearby carafe and filled his goblet to the very brim, downing the
liquid in one mighty gulp.
Forusian looked sharply at the
soldier.
‘
So, what
proof do you have of this?’
Without delay, the commander
moved to the king’s side. With shaking hands, he reached inside his
pocket and drew out the cloth.
‘
Come on,
man,’ Forusian snapped, clearly losing his patience, ‘I haven’t got
all day.’
Without further delay the
soldier unfolded the small piece of torn linen to show his master
his prized possession.
‘
Where did
you find it?’ Forusian asked, moving closer, his voice turning to a
whisper when he reached out and touched the fiery strand with his
newly manicured fingers. He felt a tremendous burst of elation;
there could be no doubt that the familiar auburn thread, glistening
in the light, was indeed a stand of Crystal’s
hair.